


Freshening Up

by KelAlannan



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Comforting, Grief, M/M, Yavin 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-05 21:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10317770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelAlannan/pseuds/KelAlannan
Summary: With some time at Yavin 4 to catch their breath, Baze can't wait to wash off the grit of Jedha and Eadu. Chirrut is reluctant to see the last sand of their moon go down the drain. Baze wants to remind him that home can be more than just a place.





	

Mon Mothma's eyes were somber as they swept the crew from Eadu on the Yavin 4 tarmac. "With the troubling intelligence you bring, we are convening senators from some of the Core Worlds in our alliance to discuss what we intend to do. They won't all arrive until tomorrow morning, so we have assigned you quarters for tonight." She eyed their still damp clothes and hair and added, "We have arranged that you will be in rooms with private freshers for your comfort." She turned and walked back into the temple base. 

Cassian, who was pointedly ignoring the way Jyn was pointedly ignoring him, turned to the group and asked, "Are you hungry? I can show you where the mess is. Or if you want to clean up first..." 

Bodhi's eyes were darting nervously around the landing pad, so Baze stepped in for him and said, "I think some time to rest would be appreciated." Bodhi's eyes finally caught on his and the pilot offered him a hesitant smile, as if not sure if the smile was right. 

"Very well. If you are hungry, anyone can point you towards the mess. Otherwise, I'll knock in two hours to check in." He started into the temple and the others followed. Baze kept an eye on Chirrut and Bodhi both. Bodhi, he worried they'd lose to a hiding spot under the belly of a ship. Chirrut, he worried would wander off in search of trappings of the Force or a spot of trouble. 

Jyn took the first room Cassian offered, her eyes darting up and down the hallway as if searching for those watching too closely. Baze supposed it made sense for someone who grew up under Saw Gerrera's tutelage. He could almost be grateful that he and Chirrut had lived on the streets too long for paranoia. 

Bodhi took the next room and when Cassian opened the room next door, Baze and Chirrut walked in together, with Chirrut throwing a sly smile in Cassian's general direction. Baze wondered absently if one or two rooms had been prepared for them. 

"The bed is one length ahead of you," Baze informed Chirrut as he inspected the rest of the room. "Looks like it's carved from rock, like the rest of this pyramid. There's a mat on top of it that should be thick enough. We'll have slept on worse." He carried on conversationally, more words than he usually uses, but he'd spent many years describing new places to Chirrut. 

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Chirrut felt his way to the bed and sat, elbows braced on his knees. "The fresher is over here. Why don't you clean up first? You know I'll stay in til the water runs out," he offered. 

But Chirrut remained still, head turned down towards the floor. "Chirrut?" Baze was concerned by this uncharacteristic silence. 

Finally Chirrut spoke, in the soft voice he only used when they were alone and he spoke only to Baze, "I'm not sure I'm ready to wash the sand of Jedha off yet."

Baze crossed the room and laid a large hand gently on Chirrut's head, scuffing through his hair and scratching lightly at the back of the skull where his tension always collected. "You wear the robes of NiJedha's Temple of the Kyber. You have a Jedhan starbird hanging around your neck. You have good Jedhan kyber inside your staff. You carry more of Jedha with you then her dust."

Chirrut craned his head back for Baze to see his quiet smile. "And what do you carry, brother?"

Baze smiled fondly down at his husband; even though Chirrut couldn't see it, he let it be heard in his voice. "I have a good Jedhan boy."

Chirrut's laugh rang out. "That's all you need of home?"

Baze thought privately that Chirrut didn't understand what home meant to him, but that was okay. He wouldn't say anything; he had never had a poet's tongue. He tugged instead on Chirrut's hair, encouraging him to his feet. "Come, Chirrut," he encouraged gruffly. When Chirrut stood, Baze quickly and efficiently undressed him. He then shed his own clothes, folding both sets and shutting them in the sonic laundry unit. 

He crossed into the fresher and turned the water on, unplaiting his hair while he waited for the water to steam. He then turned and found that Chirrut had followed him silently. Baze reached a hand out and drew him under the water with him. With a sigh, Chirrut's body slumped and Baze could see the tension wash off him. 

Baze had grabbed a cloth from a pile of towels and soaped it up with a bar that smelled of crisp, growing things. He swiftly washed his own body, gritting his teeth as he saw brown water run down the drain. When he felt that he'd scoured a layer of skin off from his own ministrations, he re-lathered the cloth and looked to his partner. Chirrut leaned against the wall, scooping water against his face as his skin flushed red under the hot water. Baze admired the view, as he always did when Chirrut was bare, but his hand was steady and unseeking as he ran the lathered cloth over his husband's chest, neck, thighs, every bit of skin. 

There was no doubt that Chirrut glowed in Baze's eyes like this. His eyes were closed against the spray, his face was smoothed of any wrinkles (even the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes), and his limbs were long and loose as if he was still young and fought only for the pleasure of movement. Baze reached around to rub the cloth between Chirrut's shoulder blades as he stepped closer into his space to press his lips to Chirrut's own. 

This seemed to be what Chirrut was waiting for as he pressed forward, turning the kiss into something hard and needy and straddling Baze's forward leg. Baze had ignored Chirrut's half-hard member when he'd been washing him, but now that it pressed against his thigh, there was no denying it and Baze's stiffened in response. 

Water clung to Chirrut's lashes as he leaned back from Baze's mouth and said coyly, "You have me, yes, Baze-y?" He hitched up against Baze's leg again and as he had for decades now, Baze swore that Chirrut would be the death of him. 

"Haven't I always?" He pressed his mouth to Chirrut's shoulder, tasting clean water and soap. "Haven't I always taken good care of you?" he asked. To make his point, he stepped back and turned Chirrut around, pushing him forward until he was braced against the wall. The water was cooling on Baze's back where he sheltered Chirrut from it, but he paid no mind. Instead, he began kneading Chirrut's shoulder and back muscles with his large, hard hands. He alternated hard pushes with light, adoring drags of his fingers on skin and open-mouthed kisses on his neck and spine where they curved before him. 

When he felt Chirrut start shaking apart under him, Baze wrapped him in his arms, pulling him back close against him for a moment before letting go to turn the water off. He stepped out first to towel himself briskly, then he grabbed a dry cloth to wrap Chirrut in. 

With a small grin that said Chirrut was humoring his ministrations, he followed where Baze led him- to the stone bed they would share. 

For a long time they lay there, tangling together, reaffirming their vows through gasps, groans, and touch. It was part joy in each other and part grief for their moon that echoed between them, but they had always been each other's solace in everything. And maybe Baze could convince him with hands and lips that Baze was at home anywhere Chirrut was and that he would do anything, go anywhere to stay there.


End file.
